


good vibrations at thirty thousand feet

by haleofStilesheart



Series: Tumblr Prompts [24]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Airports, Alternate Universe, Awkward Sexual Situations, Awkward Stiles Stilinski, College Student Stiles, First Meetings, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-30
Updated: 2016-10-30
Packaged: 2018-08-28 00:25:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8423566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haleofStilesheart/pseuds/haleofStilesheart
Summary: Stiles just found out you can buy vibrators at the airport. Embarrassment ensues.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Anonymous](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anonymous/gifts).



> For the prompt: ✥ i just discovered that you can buy vibrators at the airport, but while i was trying to load my bag into the overhead compartment on the plane, it fell out and landed right in your lap. how am i supposed to spend the next four hours sitting next to you and not die of embarrassment???
> 
> From [this](http://hale-of-stiles-heart.tumblr.com/post/148957668780/all-those-sex-toy-prompts-you-probably-didnt-need) list

Stiles was a healthy, red-blooded bisexual American boy, so it wasn’t that hard to understand why he was a little obsessed with sex.

Okay, so maybe sex wasn’t the right word to use considering the fact that he was still a virgin at the ripe old age of nineteen. Gratification was more accurate, pleasure was fitting, and masturbation worked but the most appropriate was orgasms. 

Yes, that was it: Stiles was obsessed with orgasms.

Ever since he was fourteen and had discovered the joys of the art of masturbation, experiencing his first orgasm an embarrassingly short time after he’d wrapped his hand around himself for the first time and given a few experimental tugs, he’d been steadfastly devoted to discovering other new and inventive ways to achieve orgasm. 

His mission had quickly led him to the wonders, and occasionally the horrors, of porn which had kept him satisfied throughout freshman year, spending hours each and every night trawling through free porn sites on the internet in search of fantasy fodder.

At sixteen, also the year he’d finally realized he was bisexual after stumbling upon a gay porn site, he had begun researching the biology and science behind orgasms themselves, thus his infamous economics paper on the history of circumcision, having heard various rumors about uncut dicks being more sensitive. He’d spent the rest of his time sophomore year sampling the finest selection of free gay porn, having to clandestinely buy a bottle of lube to keep from chafing, never able to live down the critical look he’d received from the sixty four year old cashier at the pharmacy a town over.

At seventeen, he’d had what could only be described as a sexual awakening when he’d finally attempted fingering himself and had come so hard he’d actually blacked out for several hours after finding his prostate. He’d spent the next year practically worshipping his own ass nearly every night, wrist cramping more times than he’d like to admit as he slowly but surely worked his way up to four fingers. 

So there he was at nineteen, perusing through the array of various sex toys at the Spencer’s in the San Francisco airport thirty minutes before boarding time. 

Winter break was over and he was heading back to school across the country, dreading the monotonous lectures and twenty page papers awaiting him back in New York. After his dad dropped him off at the airport, giving him a hurried hug and wishing him luck this semester before rushing off for his shift at the station, Stiles had taken to wandering around the terminal to quell his restlessness and satisfy his insatiable curiosity. 

First, he’d swung by the Starbucks to pick up a caramel macchiato and a chocolate chunk muffin, lingering to say  _ hi _ to Greenberg who was working behind the counter. Then he’d stopped at the Barnes and Noble to pick up a few books to read during his flight so he didn’t die of boredom at thirty nine thousand feet.

His aimless wandering had led him straight to the Spencer’s that was brazenly advertising personal massagers and intimate toys, the bright red sign immediately attracting his attention. Admittedly, he’d grown a bit bored of the big black dildo he kept hidden under his bed back in his Brooklyn apartment, just as he’d grown tired of his own fingers after awhile, so he’d made a beeline into the store, desperately praying that no one from town saw him enter and start browsing through their wide assortment of vibrators and butt plugs.

Oh god, he could practically hear the gossip now.  _ Did you hear about the Sheriff’s son? He was buying a sex toy at the airport!  _ It’d be all over the county by dinnertime and Stiles would never be able to come back home again.

Shuddering at the thought of his dad finding out anything about his masturbatory habits whatsoever, it was bad enough trying to work around his dad’s schedule for a quick jerk off session when he was in high school, Stiles tried to focus on the task at hand, namely picking the perfect plastic penis.  _ Try saying that ten times fast,  _ he mused to himself. 

“Hi! Can I help you with anything?” A loud, almost overly enthusiastic voice asked seemingly out of nowhere, startling Stiles from his R-rated reverie enough that he nearly jumped out of his skin, clutching a hand to his chest as he squeaked. The voice laughed at his reaction as he tried to even out his heartbeat, not wanting to have a panic attack and made a scene in the sex toy section. “Oh my god, that was hilarious!”

Stiles, still pressing a hand over his heart, looked up to glare at the owner of the voice, eyes widening when they landed on someone who looked better suited to work at Hot Topic.

The blonde woman was unabashedly showing off her buxom chest in a tight, strapless leather shirt, wide hips and shapely legs accentuated by her black skintight jeans, height boosted by her heeled leather boots. Her brown eyes were highlighted by her dark smoky eyeshadow, plump lips bright red and shiny, blonde hair falling in long ringlets around her bare shoulders.

Narrowing his eyes, he gradually realized that the gorgeous blonde was extremely familiar, eyes practically bulging out of his head when he realized who it was. Jaw dropping, Stiles incredulously asked, “Erica?! Erica Reyes?!”

“The one and only,” she announced with a smirk, lifting her arms and doing a quick spin on the balls of her feet, blonde curls twirling as she turned in a small circle. Once she was facing Stiles again, she opened her arms for a hug, greeting, “What’s up, Bilinski?”

“I’m never gonna live that down, am I?” Stiles groaned as he wrapped his arms around Erica’s shoulders, rolling his eyes at the nickname that had followed him around town since sophomore year when Jackson Whittemore had outed him as bisexual at the winter formal, an accidental mispronunciation by Coach Finstock quickly turning into a jeer used by his classmates to torment him.

Thank god for Danny. He’d smacked Jackson over the back of his head at the dance and demanded to know what was wrong with being bisexual before strolling up to Stiles and kissing him in front of everyone, afterwards whispering that gays had to stick together. Scott still had the pictures, of both their kiss and the shocked expressions on everyone’s faces.

“Nope,” Erica chuckled, breaking the hug and flicking a lock of hair over her shoulder, manicured black nails glinting in the fluorescent store lighting. “So, how’ve you been? I haven’t seen you since graduation.”

“I’ve been okay,” Stiles answered, lazily shrugging a shoulder. “New York’s pretty cool. Far cry from Beacon Hills. But what about you? What have you been up to?”

“I’m going to Berkeley,” Erica grinned brightly, obviously proud of herself and deservedly so. Picking a piece of lint of her shoulder, she continued, “Started a ketogenic diet, so barely any seizures. Oh! Do you remember Vernon Boyd?”

Stiles nodded, unable to remember a single time Erica and Boyd weren’t attached at the hip all throughout high school, gesturing for her to go on.

“Well, we actually just got engaged a few days ago!” Erica announced with an ecstatic smile, thrusting her left hand out towards Stiles to show off her engagement ring, a silver band accented with a gorgeous rose shaped diamond. Stiles beamed from ear to ear, grabbing her hand to further examine the glittering diamond. 

“Awww! I’m so happy for you guys!” Stiles gushed, squeezing her hand.

“I know it’s kinda soon and we’re really and everyone says it’s stupid or we’re not gonna stay together but I just  _ know _ that I wanna spend the rest of my life with him,” Erica confessed, waving her other hand around dismissively. Peeking over Stiles’ shoulder at the display of sex toys, she asked with a leer, “Anyway! Can I help you find anything?”

Stiles abruptly remembered just where he was and what he was doing there, face flushing up to his hairline. Erica laid a comforting hand on his arm as she soothed, “Oh, honey, don’t be embarrassed. Just tell me what you’re looking for and I’ll see what I can do, alright?”

“Okay,” Stiles croaked, voice cracking as he scanned over the dauntingly extensive selection of toys, uncharacteristically unprepared for making such a momentous decision in his young life. As impulsive as he could be, he was accustomed to thoroughly researching any major purchases, especially when that purchase involved something that would be going up his ass.

“What’d you have in mind?” Erica asked, nodding her chin at the shelves upon shelves of sex toys, ranging from dildos to cock rings, in front of them. 

“Uh…” Stiles completely blanked out, blinking rapidly at the shelves. Feeling like an indecisive child, he reluctantly admitted, “I have no idea.”

“Okay…” Erica hummed, biting the inside of her cheek as she thought for a moment. After a few seconds she suggested, “Let’s start with the basics: dildo or vibrator?”

“Oh my god! Keep your voice down!” Stiles squeaked, gently smacking Erica’s arm as he glanced around frantically, searching for scandalized looks from little old ladies who just happened to be in earshot. He didn’t find any, but still.

“Honey, please. No one cares, it’s Spencer’s,” Erica assured him, rolling her eyes at his paranoia. She fixed her eyes back on the display of intimate toys and asked again, “So, what? Dildo? Vibrator? Something else? You gotta give me something to work with here.”

“Umm…vibrator,” Stiles hesitantly offered, scratching the back of his head and hoping to whatever gods may be no one who even knew his dad’s name overheard their conversation. 

“Bullet or prostate?” Erica inquired, nonplussed, indicating a slim silver bullet and a curved black vibrator on a shelf.

“Uh, prostate,” Stiles mumbled, feeling himself getting excited just thinking about it. “Yeah. Definitely prostate.”

“Personally, I’d recommend this one,” Erica said, stepping forward to tap her index finger against the head of a deep blue vibrator. It was standing proudly on the middle shelf at its substantial length of seven inches, wrapped in plastic with a subtly curved head to press just so against someone’s prostate, preferably his. 

Stiles licked his lips. “Yeah?”

“Yup. Boyd swears by it,” Erica grinned wickedly, Stiles’ eyes widening at that little piece of information. He never would’ve pegged Boyd as someone who’d be into that sort of thing, but then again who was he to talk? He shook himself as Erica plucked the vibrator off the shelf and scanning it with a pricing gun she seemed to pull out of thin air. “And look! It’s on sale!”

“Yay me,” Stiles laughed weakly, still feeling extremely embarrassed.

“C’mon, I’ll ring this up for ya,” Erica stated, grabbing Stiles’ wrist and tugging him towards the cash register where she quickly scanned the vibrator again. “That’ll be ten sixty seven, please.”

Stiles fumbled to pull his wallet from his back pocket, grabbing a ten and a one dollar bill he immediately handed over to Erica who promptly gave him his change and held out his vibrator which he immediately stuffed into his carry on bag. Anxiously checking his phone, he realized he only a few minutes before his flight boarded, leaning over the counter to give Erica another hug. “Sorry, I gotta run but it was really nice seeing you. Tell Boyd I said hi. And thanks, again―for everything.”

Erica smiled widely and motioned for him to go as he jogged out of the store towards his gate, hurrying to not miss his flight. Plane tickets were expensive.

* * * * *

He managed to make it to the boarding gate with seconds to spare, climbing onto the plane completely out of breath as he looked at his ticket and searched for his seat. The person he’d be seated next to for the next five or so hours was already seated in the aisle, leaving the window seat for him. 

“Is this 26C?” Stiles asked, not wanting to inadvertently steal someone else’s seat, heaving the strap of his carry on over his shoulder. The man sitting by in the aisle seat looked up at Stiles, knocking all the air out of his lungs as he did.

He was absolutely gorgeous. Probably the most gorgeous person he had ever seen in his entire life, and he’d gone to high school with Jackson.

The man smiled up at Stiles with a wide grin, revealing a pair of bunny teeth and flashing a pair of dimples beneath his dark stubble, the corners of his hazel-green eyes crinkling. He ran a hand through his thick black hair and nodded, silently answering Stiles’ question.

Stiles wanted to sit on his face.

“Thanks, man,” he choked out, managing to somehow keep his voice from cracking. Shaking himself, he offered his hand, introducing himself, “I’m Stiles, by the way, and uh, I guess I’ll be your in-flight entertainment for the evening.”

The man threw his head back to laugh, the sound sending heat coursing through Stiles’ body. Biting his lip to quell his chuckles, he reached out to shake Stiles’ hand, replying, “It’s nice to meet you, Stiles. I’m Derek. I’ll be looking forward to that entertainment.”

Stiles beamed at him, trying not to blush too obviously at the spark that jolted through him at the innocent touch of Derek’s hand, savoring the warmth of his slightly callused skin. He broke eye contact with Derek before he started waxing poetic about the indescribable color of his eyes to stuff his carry on into the overhead storage, struggling to shove his overstuffed bag into the compartment. 

“Oh, c’mon,” Stiles grunted as he crammed his bag in, trying his best not to disturb Derek’s things while he did, using his elbow to force his bag into the too tight space. He was straining to push his bag in those last few inches when the zipper burst open and his newly purchased vibrator tumbled out. 

Right onto Derek’s lap.

Stiles froze. He stared down at the blue vibrator lying almost innocuously in Derek’s lap, mocking him for his utter stupidity. He knew his face was probably redder than the hoodie he was wearing, cheeks feeling like they were on fire.

Derek slowly turned to look up at him, blinking once, then twice, in surprise. Stiles wished the floor would open up and swallow him as he stood frozen, paralyzed by shock and embarrassment, awkwardly meeting Derek’s eyes.

After a few moments, he finally snapped to attention, snatching the vibrator off Derek’s lap and jamming it back into his bag, slamming the overhead compartment door shut before even more awkwardly shuffling past Derek to plop down into his seat where he was certain he was going to die of embarrassment, tugging his hood up to hide his face.

He was sure he’d just made the  _ worst _ first impression in the history of first impressions, worse than when he’d accidentally set his textbook on fire the first day of chemistry class sophomore year, completely nullifying the fact that he’d actually gotten Derek to laugh at his dumb joke. And now he was stuck sitting next to the most gorgeous person he’d ever met who’d just had his vibrator in his lap and probably thought Stiles was some sort of sexual deviant. 

The next five hours of his life were going to be a living hell.

* * * * *

Their arrival at JFK couldn’t come soon enough.

Two hours into their flight, after Stiles had mustered up enough gall to pull his hood down and start reading one of the books he’d bought specifically for the flight, Derek tapped him on the shoulder. Sure he was going to ask Stiles to hide his disgusting face again or stop the incessant drumming of his fingers against the hardcover of the book, Stiles slumped his shoulders and tried to make himself as small as possible, reluctantly meeting Derek’s gaze.

“Hey,” Derek started, smiling easily, no trace of disgust or derision on his face. “I was just wondering if I could borrow a book―” Derek nodded at the other two books in Stiles’ lap “―I forgot to bring one.”

“Oh,” Stiles said dumbly, having expected harsh, biting words or a demand for him to find another seat on the crowded flight. After another moment, Derek patiently waiting with a soft smile on his face for Stiles to give him an answer, Stiles blurted, “Oh! Yeah, uh, take your pick.”

Derek pursed his lips in thought as he examined the covers of the books, thick eyebrows furrowing adorably. After a couple minutes, he reached over to grab the one off Stiles’ right thigh, his fingers seeming to linger on the denim of Stiles’ jeans. “Thanks.”

“No problem, man,” Stiles answered, voice choked from trying not to outright moan at the heat Derek’s touch had elicited in him. 

An hour later, Derek had tapped on his shoulder again, waking him from a short catnap to offer him something this time. “Hey, sorry to wake you but I got two sandwiches. Figured you might be hungry, too. You want one?”

The growl of his stomach was answer enough. Derek tossed his head back and laughed at the well-timed hunger pang as Stiles’ face flushed bright pink again.

Derek brandished both sandwiches, wrapped in plastic wrap with nutrition labels smacked on top. “Turkey or roast beef?”

“Turkey, please,” Stiles requested, making grabby hands as Derek handed him the sandwich. He eagerly ripped the plastic wrap off, taking the biggest bite he could manage, moaning emphatically at the delicious taste. Through a mouthful of meat and bread, he managed a muffled announcement of, “Oh my god, this is so good, dude.”

Derek laughed again, ducking his head as the corners of his eyes crinkled again, taking a bite of his own sandwich, refraining from making an pornographic sound effects. Stiles laughed at himself too, wiping a dollop of mayo off his upper lip, sticking his finger in his mouth to lick off, reflecting that maybe the next two hours wouldn’t be so bad if only he could stop embarrassing himself in front of the hottest guy he’d ever met.

When they began approaching the airport, Stiles jumped to his feet before the plane even landed, earning a scolding look from the closest flight attendant and a punched out laugh from Derek as he plopped back down in his seat. Hand over his mouth to muffle his laugh, Derek offered Stiles his book back, Stiles snatching the book from his hands with an indignant glare that only served to make Derek laugh harder.

Once they landed and were given the okay to exit the plane, Stiles hopped back to his feet and hurried to tug his bag out of the overhead compartment, praying to god nothing fell out this time.

“Careful,” Derek warned with a smirk as he pulled his own carry on out of the overhead storage. Stiles’ stomach dropped as he realized, once again, that was all he would ever be to people as attractive as Derek. A joke. A funny story to tell his friends over drinks. The weird, gangly, little pale kid who talked too much and didn’t know how to mind his own business.

Ducking his head, Stiles slung his bag over his shoulder, cradling his books against his chest and quietly bid Derek farewell. “Uh, well. It was nice meeting you, Derek.”

“You too, Stiles,” Derek answered with a sincere smile, pulling the strap of his bag over his shoulder. “Guess I’ll see you around.”

“Yeah, sure,” Stiles murmured, not looking up to meet Derek’s eyes as he turned on his heel and hurried to climb off the plan, never looking behind himself. He didn’t want to see the relieved look on Derek’s face when he left his presence.

* * * * *

He was greeted by a flurry of cold snow and a bitter gust of wind as he walked out of the airport, watching the tendrils of his breath waft away in the dark night as a sea of taxis whizzed by. Like a pack of shiny yellow wolves waiting for a straggler from the herd to stray too close so they could swoop down upon them, the taxis circled the block around the airport, desperate cabbies hoping for a big fare to end the night. 

Scanning over the frenzy of taxis, Stiles realized he really should have taken his friend Kira up on her offer to pick him up at the airport when he got back to the city. He shrugged and stepped towards the curb to try his hand at hailing a cab, rising up to his tiptoes while waving at the cab drivers, beckoning them closer.

He finally managed to flag one down after several minutes, teeth chattering in the cold as he politely thanked the driver and climbed into the backseat, immediately fastening. He relayed his address to the driver, pulling out his wallet to count out a tip as they pulled away from the curb and onto the road, heading towards the Jackie Robinson Parkway. 

Stiles sighed and relaxed back in his seat, hoping for another quick catnap in before getting back to his apartment so he could curl up in his warm, comfy bed and crash for as long as possible. He was jolted awake by the cab slamming to a stop outside his apartment building, tires screeching as the stench of burning rubber filled the air. Yawning, his rubbed his eyes and pulled his wallet out of his pocket, checking the meter to see how much he owed.

Stiles quickly counted out his money with a fifteen dollar tip, telling the cabbie as much as he handed him the money before starting to open his door. "Have a nice night."

“Yeah, you too,” the cab driver said, voice gruff and scratchy, as Stiles climbed out of the cab. He watched the cab peel out and disappear around the corner as he stood on the curb in front of his building before turning and jogging into the building, heading towards the elevators, foregoing the stairs on account of how tired he was.

He tapped his foot while pressing the button to call an elevator, teeth still chattering as he basked in the warmth of the lobby. Stiles sighed in relief when the elevator arrived, doors opening to let a few passengers off.

Climbing inside, he hit the button for the first floor and started digging through his bag for his apartment keys. He looked up as someone else entered the elevator, gaping when he saw Derek in all his hot glory, snow in his hair and a red flush tinging his cheeks.

“Oh, hey,” Stiles greeted awkwardly, damning his luck for living in the same building as the guy whose lap he’d dropped a vibrator in. The universe had a sick sense of humor.

“Hey,” Derek beamed, running a hand through his hair as he moved to press the button for his floor, elevator doors closing behind him. 

They didn’t talk for the rest of the elevator ride, Stiles rifling through his bag for his keys as Derek hummed along to the elevator music. When they reached the seventh floor, Stiles practically leaped out of the elevator and scurried down the hall to his apartment.

He looked up when he heard footsteps, seeing Derek slipped a key into the lock of the apartment next to his own, eyes widening when he realized Derek was his neighbor. He wanted to curl up and die so he never had to look Derek in the eye again, pretty sure he’d never be able to without turning bright red.

Stiles was half sure he was about to get murdered when Derek leaned his shoulder against the wall, smiling down at him with a half-lidded eyes, looking, for all intents and purposes, like a predator cornering its prey. And Stiles wanted nothing more than to be devoured.

“So, you’re the one I always hear,” Derek stated, inching closer. “Always thought you had a parade of guys coming through your apartment. But I never saw anyone coming or going. Must be you and your toys, then.” 

Stiles’ breath hitched as Derek inched even closer, raising a hand to drag his thumb over Stiles’ bottom lip. Derek smirked, eyes nearly all pupil. “Always wondered who it was I heard moaning in the middle of the night for―” he raised his voice a few octaves in imitation of Stiles’ voice “― _ more. Right there. _ ”

“Guess I don’t have to wonder anymore,” Derek quipped, trailing his knuckles over Stiles’ cheek, leaning even closer. “Y’know, if you ever want to try the real thing you can always knock―” he nodded at his apartment door “―you know where I’ll be.”

Stepping closer, Derek leaned down to press his lips against Stiles’, sucking Stiles’ bottom lip between his own, nipping at the sensitive pink skin. Pulling back to press his forehead against Stiles’, taking advantage of Stiles’ still closed eyes, Derek breathed, “Goodnight, Stiles.”

Stiles’ eyes fluttered open in time to see Derek slip into his apartment and close the door, metal apartment number staring back at him. It took barely a second for Stiles to knock on Derek’s door.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to prompt me on [Tumblr](http://hale-of-stiles-heart.tumblr.com/)


End file.
